Hand-Me-Down Rat
by MandyinKC
Summary: The story of how Scabbers came to live with the Weasleys.


Author's Note: This story is dedicated to my best friend, Lori. A couple of months ago, she asked how the Weasleys came to own Scabbers. So, I kicked the question around with PJHope and keeptheotherone. After all of that, I wrote this story.

Special thanks to PJHope (who just completed _Not That Kind of Love)_ for pre-reading this story for me. Also, thank you to Project Team Beta for editing the story. And another thanks to Lori for coming up with the title.

Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to JK Rowling.

* * *

Hand-Me-Down Rat

_It has been nearly a year since he did what he did, he would guess. It was hard to gauge time as he was now, in the rat's body, but he could feel the bite in the air that said autumn was coming again. Plus, he'd watched the family on the hill take the eldest boy to Hogwarts. Well, that's what he assumed. There had been a trunk and lots of hugs and, later that day, one less boy._

_It made him think of his own mother. He missed her. She was the only one who ever really loved him. At least he had left her with something to be proud of._

_But he needed to keep his mind on more practical matters. If he wasn't careful, he would be spending another winter scavenging for food and a warm place to sleep. That was the downfall of being a rat—and he would admit, a part of his hastily cobbled together plan that he had not anticipated. No one—not even wizards—wanted him around. They thought he was unclean, disease ridden. He'd been chased with brooms, kicked across gardens, and one nasty, old warlock had even tried using the killing curse on him. That had been a close call. But there was no going back. He was a rat now, maybe forever. _

_However, this family seemed likely. He'd been watching them for several weeks. There were a lot of kids, mostly boys. He wasn't too keen on that part. He knew boys all too well, and the mischief they could create. Two of the kids were nothing more than babies really, but he could avoid there grabby little hands well enough. The twin boys—well, they reminded him of Sirius and James, didn't they? Or the Prewett brothers. He suspected they may be relatives, but he didn't want to think about that. Not after what had happened to the Prewetts, not that it was his fault. _

_Well, that was neither here nor there. _

_Back to the topic at hand. Gaining a place as family pet—and more importantly, a warm bed and good meal on a reliable basis. The oldest boy was gone. He'd seemed a responsible sort, but that avenue was closed to him now. The middle boy with the spectacles seemed a bit skittish, probably the type to run screaming from a rat. The second oldest, on the other hand, he was exactly the person he needed. That boy loved animals, and not just the cute ones. _

_He just needed to make himself seem harmless, which of course, he was._

oOo

Charlie heaved a great sigh as he surveyed his charges. With Bill gone to Hogwarts, he was in charge of the sprouts. Well, that's what Bill called the little ones. Charlie had other names for them. It was time to harvest the apples, so at least Ronnie and Ginny were going to be kept inside with Mum. That meant Charlie only had to worry about Percy and the twins—mostly the twins. Percy would manage himself, he always did, as far as Charlie could tell.

Grabbing up the apple crates, Charlie passed a couple to each brother, then led the troops to the orchard. He had to admit, this was his favorite time of the year. He would eat his weight in apples during the harvest, then they'd have apples to sell for extra money, but best of all would be the ones they'd keep. Mum would can all kinds of wonderful things like applesauce, apple butter, and pie filling. Then, she would bake apple tarts, apple crumble, apple turnovers, apple cobbler, and more. Charlie moaned aloud just thinking about it.

Of course, it would be better if Bill were here. Charlie had never picked apples without his big brother before. Plus, he'd never been in charge of the brats while doing it, either.

Not too surprisingly, the whole thing was a bad job. It started out well enough, with him and Percy up the ladders, filling their baskets. The twins climbed up a tree of their own, tossing apples into a basket on the ground. And then tossing them at each other. And then tossing them across the orchard. Until finally, they pegged Percy in the back of the head. Charlie yelled at them to get out of the tree. They refused. He went up after them. They went down. He chased them around the orchard. They found a place to hide.

In the end, Charlie was hot, sweaty and hungry. All he wanted was to eat apples in peace, but no, he was plagued by _the_ _twins. _Charlie flopped down in the shade of one of the trees, having given up the chase. How did Bill do it? Sure, the twins gave Bill a hard time, but he could always reign them in. Charlie felt like he could only manage Fred and George if he hexed them, and Charlie did not think Mum would be too pleased if he returned the brats home covered in bat bogeys.

"Here."

Charlie looked up to see Percy standing at his side, extending an apple to him. "Thanks, Perce."

Percy sat next to Charlie under the tree with his own apple. Charlie looked over to the crates of apples. He could see his own half-filled crate and the twins' tipped over crate, apples strewn across the grass. Under another tree, three neatly aligned crates were filled with apples. Charlie looked at his little brother, impressed. The little bugger was a hard worker, no question.

"Good job, Perce," Charlie said and ruffled the boy's curly hair.

Percy beamed up at him. "Thank you, Charlie."

"What am I going to do with the twins?"

"Well, I would say that we should drop them off at the edge of town and hope some nice Muggles took them in, but the twins are old enough now, they'd probably find their way home."

Charlie stared at the six-year-old for a moment. Then he burst out laughing. He was never sure why, but it always surprised him when Percy said something funny. Sometimes Percy reminded Charlie of a stuffy, old man.

"Mum might miss them," Charlie suggested.

Percy looked skeptical, but then pushed his glasses up. "Maybe."

The two of them went back to picking the apples. The twins would turn up when they were ready or when they got hungry, whichever came first.

When the sun was low in the sky and Charlie's belly was heaving from the weight of the apples in it, he called it a day. Percy scrambled down the ladder and the twins materialized from out of nowhere. Charlie would have rolled his eyes, if that hadn't been the moment his stomach decided to rebel. He staggered over to a tree and puked.

As he leaned against the bark, heaving and clutching his stomach, Charlie could hear Bill's words in his ears: _"I told you not to eat so many apples! You do this every year."_

"You alright there, Charlie?" Percy asked in quiet tones.

Charlie glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Just head back to the Burrow and maybe the twins will follow."

Percy disappeared, as did the twins. Charlie sank down on the ground, back against the tree trunk. He looked at the bushels of apples. Later, after he came home from work, Dad would levitate them back to the Burrow for storage. There didn't seem to be as many bushels filled as there normally were. This whole day would have been a lot more fun if Bill were here.

A squeak distracted Charlie from his upset stomach. He looked around and spotted a scrawny, brown rat staring at him, his nose twitching. Charlie froze for a moment, assessing the critter. It looked half-starved, and that was probably a sign of disease. He should shoo it away from the apples, or maybe even kill it before it could spread its germs. But it didn't look sick, not really, just underfed. Kind of like Ronnie, despite the fact that the tot had at least five square meals a day.

Tentatively—with full knowledge that his mum would kill him if she could see him—Charlie extended a hand to the rat. It twitched its nose a few more times, then came over to give him a sniff, just as tame as could be. Charlie kept very still, not making any sudden moves. The rat climbed into his hand. It stood on its hind legs and peered at Charlie with its beady black eyes, nose still twitching.

Charlie grinned. This had been somebody's pet. It needed to be taken care of. Maybe if he could keep it out of sight—just until it was healthy and proved not to be a nuisance—Mum would let him keep it. It was going to need a name.

oOo

Charlie had managed to keep the rat a secret for two weeks. He'd also managed to fatten him up a bit. It looked like a healthy animal now, surely that would impress Mum when he finally told her about it. It would be nice to give it a name, but he hadn't come up with one yet. He'd never been able to keep a critter this long before Mum discovered it.

Although, Charlie rather wished the rat would _do_ something. It seemed to sleep twenty-three hours a day. When it was awake, it was to go outside or to eat. Charlie always imagined playing with a pet or taking it along places, not listening to it snore. Which was odd in itself. Who knew rats could snore?

Charlie had written Bill a letter a week ago to tell him about the rat. Bill was not impressed. It wasn't that Bill disliked animals, but Charlie had to admit that Bill had been on the receiving end of some of the worst of his critter rescues. There had been the mama squirrel that gave birth in Bill's bed. Then there was the dormouse that shit on Bill's head. Then there was the baby hedgehog. It was real cute, and even Bill thought so, until it shit on Bill's shirt while he was holding it. Bill had been shit on by a lot of animals. Charlie was sure to report that the rat was housebroken in his letter.

Charlie heard stomping up the stairs. He placed a pillow over the rat where it lay on his bed. Good thing, too, because the next thing he knew, his bedroom door flew open and a distraught blur of red and knobby knees streaked into the room. Charlie closed the door with a quiet click and assessed Percy, who was curled up on Bill's bed. The squirt was red faced and crying.

"What happened?" Charlie asked, sitting in his desk chair.

Percy sniffed. "Nothing," he mumbled.

Probably something with the twins. Percy was always locking horns with the twins. He wanted to play big brother to them so bad, but they rejected his authority at every turn. Percy seemed to get along with Fred and George better if it was just one of them, trouble was it was almost never just one of them. Even at four, they knew exactly how to get under Percy's skin.

"I was trying to write a letter to Bill," Percy said after some time. He picked at the quilt under his head, his glasses askew. "I wanted to ask him a question, but I didn't know how to spell a word."

"Did you ask Mum?" Charlie asked.

"I was going to. Bill usually helps me spell."

There was an odd hollow feeling in Charlie's chest when Percy said that. The other day, Charlie had been trying to build a fort out in the orchard to play pirates with the twins. Bill had made up the game after reading some old Muggle book Dad had brought home. Charlie and Bill would always build the fort together, but Charlie couldn't quite manage it on his own. The twins had been no use at all, of course.

"What's that?"

Charlie looked up at Percy's words. His little brother was sitting up on the mattress now, staring at Charlie's bed. Or more accurately, staring at the rat rooting around on the blankets, its nose twitching. Charlie caught his breath. Of all the brothers to catch him with the rat, why did it have to be Percy? Everybody knew Percy was a tattletale.

But, much to Charlie's surprise, Percy crossed the room and knelt by the bed. He petted the rat, who nuzzled into the boy's hand.

"Sometimes I wish I had a pet," Percy said. "I know how Mum feels about it, but it would be nice to have something to keep me company. My room is so lonely, especially at night."

Charlie had shared a room with Bill for as long as he could remember. He had yearned for his own room, his own space, for his entire life. Now he had it and, he had to admit, it was kind of lonely. Percy had always been on his own. The twins shared a room, of course. Ginny got her own room, as she was the only girl. So did Ron and Percy. He had never imagined that Percy had felt lonely. Although, if Charlie thought real hard about it, he could remember a lot of nights where Percy would camp out on the floor by Bill's bed. But then, nearly all of the little ones camped out by Bill's bed at one time or another. They all looked to him to scare away their nightmares or check for monsters under the bed.

It occurred to Charlie that maybe Percy wasn't just lonely in his room. Maybe he was missing Bill, the only brother who ever really paid him any attention. Charlie had just assumed he missed Bill the most, as they were brothers _and_ best mates. Maybe the whole family missed having their big brother around.

Well, Charlie wondered, what would Bill do for Percy right now?

"Mum's probably not going to let me keep it," Charlie told his little brother.

Percy pushed his glasses up and looked at Charlie. "Mum doesn't know?" he whispered.

Charlie sank down next to Percy and shook his head. "I was going to tell her soon."

"I like his nose," Percy said with a grin.

Charlie watched as the rat twitched his nose. It was cute, that.

"Can-can I pick it up?" Percy asked.

Charlie shrugged. "Sure."

Percy scooped the rat up and cradled him like a baby against his chest. The rat nuzzled the boy's neck and Percy laughed. He smiled up at Charlie, looking happier than Charlie could ever remember. And then Charlie knew what he could do for his little brother.

"You want him?" Charlie asked.

Percy's brow scrunched up and he looked at Charlie from under his lashes. "Really? You'd give him to me?"

"Why not? He doesn't do much anyways."

Percy sat back on his hunches, a small smile on his face. "Cheers, Charlie!"

"What are you going to name him?"

Percy held the rat up, looking at him all over. Finally, with a nod, he said, "Scabbers."

"Scabbers!" Charlie exploded and reached for the rat. "That's a stupid name!"

Percy held the rat out of reach. "Nu-uh, he's mine now and I'll call him whatever I like!"

Charlie made to snatch Percy around the waist, but the little bugger slipped out of Charlie's grasp. Percy scurried to the door, rat tucked against his chest. At the door, he stopped and looked at Charlie over his shoulder.

"Thank you, Charlie."

A blush burned up Charlie's neck. Percy's little face was very serious, even as the boy pushed his glasses up his nose. A light feeling pushed up inside Charlie's chest. He didn't know what it was exactly, but it was a nice feeling. He smiled at his fretful little brother.

"Welcome."

oOo

August 1991

Percy peered through the crack in his door. Little Ronnie stomped up the stairs, his face red and tear streaked, then made the turn to climb another landing to his own bedroom. When his baby brother was out of sight, Percy slipped Scabbers into his shirt pocket and crept out his room.

Looking around to make sure the twins were nowhere in sight, Percy tiptoed down the stairs. He carefully avoided the squeaky step by stepping over it. Once he was just out of sight of the kitchen, Percy sat down on the step. Mum and Dad, er, _Mother and Father_ were in the kitchen having a very serious discussion.

"Molly," Father was saying from where he sat at the table, "Ron needs his own wand, not a hand-me-down."

"Charlie was honored to have his Uncle Gideon's wand, why shouldn't Ron be?" Mother replied. Her voice was strident, and she was stirring the batter in her bowl with extra vigor.

"Yes, and Charlie has fond memories of Gideon, doesn't he? Ron never even knew him."

Mother's head snapped up, a pinched expression on her face, but she said nothing.

Waving his hands frantically before him, Father spoke again, "I'm sorry to have said that, Molly. I know how that hurts you, but it's true none the less."

"I know," Mother said in a quieter voice then sighed.

"We'll have to return Percy's owl."

Percy pressed his hand over the bulge in his shirt pocket, feeling the familiar warmth and weight of Scabbers. He'd got his new owl—a handsome screech owl named Hermes—a week ago. The owl was a reward for making prefect. His parents had allowed Percy to decide what he wanted and he'd told them he'd wanted an owl because they were useful, especially once he started at the Ministry of Magic after Hogwarts. But that had only been part of it. Percy had wanted another pet. Truthfully, he'd wanted a cat, but feared it would try to eat Scabbers. And, well, he hadn't wanted the twins to take the mickey over it.

Hermes may not be a cat, but Percy was already quite attached to the dignified, majestic raptor. He'd sent the owl with letters to Bill and his best mate, Oliver Wood, already. Upon return, Percy had lavished the bird with praise and received affection in the form of playful nips. A knot formed in Percy's stomach at the thought of losing his pet.

"We can't!" Mother cried and began her frantic stirring again.

"Molly, see reason," Father replied, his mouth was pinched. "It's more important that Ron have a wand of his own to begin school with than Percy have an owl."

"It's not fair to Percy," Mum said, but she sounded deflated. "Bill got that silly, Muggle, leather jacket when he was made prefect and Charlie got a new broomstick. Percy earned that reward."

Dad sighed. "He did, I won't deny it."

Despite the sick feeling in Percy's stomach, he sat up a little straighter.

"And, Arthur, Percy already feels so-so _left out_. Bill and Charlie never really included him and the younger children…"

"Perhaps if he wasn't always trying to boss them around, they would get along better."

Percy slumped on the step. He reached under his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose. Was it his fault that the younger children never listened to him? It was the twins. They were always undermining him. Then there was Ron, and well, Ron was always trying to earn the twins approval, wasn't he? Percy tried to keep them safe and inline, just like Bill and Charlie did. He, Percy, just couldn't make them see that he had their best interests at heart.

"Regardless, I want Percy to know that we value him the same as his elder brothers," Mother was saying now. "That we recognize his effort."

"But what of Ron?" Dad argued. "You know he has no confidence in his abilities. He won't flourish with a wand that is not his own."

"Charlie did!"

"Charlie is confident and easy going. Ron is riddled with insecurity. You know that what worked for one child will not work for another."

Mother put aside her bowl and pulled a chair out to sit heavily to Father's right. Then Mother spoke:

"I know, I know. And you are right, of course, Ron does need his own wand."

"Then we'll just have to return Percy's owl. We simply cannot afford both."

Hot tears burned the back of Percy's eyes. It wasn't fair. He'd worked hard to earn good marks and stay out of trouble. He was top of his class, for Merlin's sake. It was not as if it all came easily for him, like it did Bill. Percy had spent hours and hours practicing spells and studying theory. And now he had been awarded with a position of respect and he deserved to be rewarded for it, just the same as his brothers.

Even as he wallowed in pity, Percy knew it was beneath him. Father was right, of course, Ron did deserve a wand of his own. And Percy even understood why there was no money to buy it. The twins had taken ill with Dragon Pox last week, necessitating a trip to St. Mungo's when their temperatures grew to alarming highs. The double hospital bill had meant less money to prepare for school. How were they supposed to afford four sets of (used) books and a new wand?

"We can't, Arthur," Mother said with a sigh. "I already contacted Eeylop's Owl Emporium. They won't take the owl back."

A part of Percy was relieved, even though he knew he should be ashamed of himself for feeling that way. It was just an owl, one he'd had barely a week, it was not nearly as important as a new wand for Ron. Percy closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. Merlin, what a tangle. He _hated_ being poor.

"Oh," Father said, his tone dejected. "Well. Maybe next year."

"When we'll have to buy robes, books and a wand for Ginny?" Mother replied. She let out a short wail. "This is _all_ my fault! Honestly, I've been doing this for twenty years, I should have known to buy Ron's wand first. It's just-just that Percy was so excited and I was so proud—"

"You couldn't have known the twins would take ill, Molly."

"But I should have known to buy the necessities first."

Percy stood and made his way back to his room. When he reached his door, he stopped before entering it and looked to the stairwell that led up to Ron's bedroom. Percy had always thought that he and little Ronnie had a good deal in common. He, Percy, had grown up in the shadow of Bill and Charlie. Those two were more than just brothers, they were best mates. More than that, they cast a long shadow with their accomplishments and charm. Percy had spent his whole life trying to keep up with them, and he'd failed more often than not. But if he was living in Bill and Charlie's shadow, then Percy was also living with the specter of Fred and George coming up behind him. Their marks might not be top notch, but everybody knew they could be brilliant if they tried. Besides, they didn't need good marks: people were attracted to their humor and verve. Qualities Percy simply did not possess.

In the same way, Ron was in the twins' shadow. Percy could see how Ron tried to break into the twins' circle, but Fred and George were a unit and there was no room for anyone else. Coming up behind Ron was Ginny, the baby and the only girl. It was all too easy to just get swept aside in a position like that—Percy ought to know.

Scabbers stirred in Percy's pocket. He rubbed the rat's head and looked again at the stairs. Somehow, he found himself putting one foot before the other and before he knew it, he was standing outside Ron's door. Percy tapped lightly on it and waited.

"Go away!"

"Ron, it's me, Percy. May I come in?"

The door swung open. Percy nearly missed his little brother standing before him for the glaring orange aura of Ron's room. Percy squinted, not trying to hide his grimace.

"Merlin, Ronnie, it's like you live inside a wood burning stove."

"Stuff it, Percy, and don't call me that!"

Ron turned on his heel and stalked back into his room, throwing himself across his bed. Percy followed him into the room. He pulled the desk chair out and sat, taking Scabbers from his pocket. He held the rat against his chest and stroked his back. Percy wasn't sure what he had come to say. For all that he felt he and Ron had a good deal in common, they were not close. Ron always seemed to resent Percy, just as the twins did.

"I heard you were getting Charlie's wand," Percy said.

Ron glared at Percy. "Yeah, and whose fault is that?"

Percy swallowed thickly. "Yes, well, I have Hermes now, so I don't need this old rat."

Sitting up, Ron looked at Percy. "So…what are you going to do with him, then?"

"You can have him." Percy thrust his pet at his little brother before he could think better of it. He hadn't intended to give Scabbers to Ron when he'd come up here.

Charlie had given Percy the rat, and Percy loved it. Not that he would ever be dumb enough to say so aloud—Merlin, the twins would never stop taking the mickey. All the same, it was true. Scabbers had slept on his pillow by his head all these years. He'd been there when Percy was afraid of the thunder, on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, in his pocket when he'd been sorted. He didn't want to give his pet away, but…but maybe Ron needed Scabbers more than he did.

Ron took the rat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, he's useless anyway," Percy said with a sniff. "All he does is sleep."

Ron regarded the rat, then Percy with narrowed eyes. "You're not taking the mickey?"

"Do I ever take the mickey, Ronald, this is me."

"Good point, you're duller than dishwater."

"And on that insult, I think I'll take my leave."

Percy stood and slowly walked to the door. It was strange, not feeling the weight of Scabbers in his pocket. That was the entire reason he'd started wearing button down shirts when he was six, so he'd have a place to keep Scabbers. The twins thought he looked ridiculous, like a little old man. Percy covered his pocket with his hand.

"Hey," Ron called.

Percy looked at him expectantly.

"Cheers, Perce."

Percy smiled thinly. "He-Scabbers, that is, likes to be scratched behind the ears and he likes a bit of cream now and again. He's afraid of dogs more than cats, especially big black ones."

"He's a stupid rat, but I'll take care of him."

oOo

February 1994

Ron stood outside the seventh year boys' dormitory, trying to get up the nerve to knock. Maybe Percy wasn't even in there. He was probably in the library studying for his N.E.W.T.s. Yeah, Percy would be too busy. He wouldn't want Ron bothering him with this stuff. Ron was just about to turn away from the door when Oliver Wood walked up, his broomstick hoisted on his shoulder.

"You looking for Perce?" Wood asked. "He should be in there. C'mon."

The burly Quidditch player opened the door, and pushed Ron into the room. Percy was sitting at a desk, hunched over some books and parchment. He didn't even look up when Wood stomped into the room. Ron wrung his hands and hovered near the door.

"Look what I found," Wood said, flicking Percy in the ear as he walked by.

Percy swatted at the other boy's hand. "Ow! Can't you see I'm studying, you great ox?"

Ron cleared his throat. "Um, Percy…"

Immediately, Percy looked up. His brow was creased and his mouth was stiff. He looked constipated by Ron's estimation. Percy was probably mad about being interrupted. Ron knew he shouldn't have bothered his most uptight brother.

"What's wrong?" Percy asked.

"Well, just, I thought you should know…" Ron stammered. "Scabbers is dead."

"Oh." Percy set his quill down carefully. "Oh. Ron, I-I-"

"Scabbers?" Wood said. He had stored his broomstick away and was now pulling his shirt off. "The rat? Bloody hell, Perce, you loved that stupid rat."

Percy shot a dirty look at his dorm mate. "You haven't spoken a word that didn't have to do with Quidditch or Katie Bell's bosom since October and now you want to chat about my old pet? Shut it, you."

"Katie Bell has a bosom?" Ron asked, looking round eyed at a red-faced Oliver Wood.

Wood chucked a wad of parchment at Percy's head, but he deflected it with a silent spell. Despite himself, Ron was impressed. He wondered what spell Percy had used, but he'd be damned if he asked. Percy would probably launch into a twenty minute lecture about silent spells, followed by another lecture about proper wand technique before he ever even answered the question. Bugger that.

Percy looked to Ron again with a small smile. "Most girls do, Ronnie, or hadn't you noticed?"

"Um, of course I noticed," Ron replied, scuffing his toe against the hardwoods. He could feel his ears growing hot. "Are you taking the mickey?"

"Do I ever take the mickey?" Percy's eyebrows shot up as if shocked by the suggestion, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. By his bed, Wood snorted.

"Yeah, I guess. I mean you're Percy, you wouldn't know a good joke if—"

"Yes, yes, I know your opinion of me," Percy finished.

"Well, I'll just go then."

Ron began to turn, glad to be done with this. Percy had fobbed Scabbers off on Ron ages ago when Percy got a better pet. It's not as if his older brother cared about the useless rat. Still, it seemed the right thing to do to tell Percy the stupid rat was dead.

"Hey, Ron," Percy called.

Ron turned back to his older brother.

"How-how did it happen?"

"Hermione's bloody cat got him," Ron spat with a scowl.

Percy's shoulders slumped. "Oh." He pushed his glasses up. "Well, he was old…maybe-maybe it was for the best?"

"Yeah, maybe. He was useless anyway."

"Well, thanks for telling me and-and I'm sorry."

"Thanks, Perce. I'll just see you around then. Goodnight, Wood."

The Quidditch Captain waved, but Percy just stared after Ron until he was on the other side of the door. Hand still on the knob, Ron let out a sigh. He was glad to be done with that, he reckoned, but he still felt sad. Wood had said something about Percy loving Scabbers. Was that true? Percy never seemed the kind to be keen on pets, but then he'd had the stupid rat since he was six or seven. Maybe it had grown on him. Ron shrugged, not really wanting to puzzle over the Big Head Boy. Except that Ron had kind of loved Scabbers, too.

Well, he was a completely useless, stupid rat, but he still belonged to Ron. Just another hand-me-down, of course, but one that had snuggled with Ron on cold nights and reminded him of home when he felt homesick for his mum. Not that that happened often, mind. But every now and again Ron missed his mum's cooking and having Scabbers to scratch behind the ears made it better somehow.

Ron sighed and traipsed down to his own dorm. Harry was there and he smiled at Ron when he came in.

"Want a Chocolate Frog?" Harry asked, holding one out.

Ron took the offered sweet. "Thanks, mate."

"Welcome."


End file.
